Mrs.De Peyster now realized that she had been guilty of a lack of forethought.

It had not occurred to her, in working out this plan of hers, that her frigidly proper William could entertain a friendliness toward any one.

What she should have done was to have given William a vacation and secured an entirely strange coachman for the summer who would have had no friendly sentiments to give play to.
But her desire was now all to escape from William's amiable attentions.
"Take me home," she said presently, muffling her voice behind her hand and veil, and withdrawing from it its accustomed tone of authority.
Half an hour later, to her great relief, the carriage turned again into Washington Square and drew up before her house.

She stepped quickly out.
"Good-night--thank you," she said in a smothered imitation of Matilda's voice, and hurried up her steps.
She had unlocked the door in the boarding and had stepped into the dark entry, when she became aware that William had deserted his horses and was stepping in just behind her.

As though it were a matter of long custom, William slipped an arm about her waist and imprinted a kiss upon her veil.
Mrs.De Peyster let out a little gasping cry, and struggled to free herself.
"Don't be scared, Matilda," William reassured her.